


Postlude

by princess_trash



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Master/Servant, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 00:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18906088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess_trash/pseuds/princess_trash
Summary: Saurons plays with his mortal servant.





	Postlude

_Second Age_

_Mordor_

The clock in his Master’s chambers struck another hour and the Prince finished his report. Seldom he was allowed to this part of the Tower but this day the Master granted him a personal audience. It was a rare moment for them to be alone. So, before his Master dismissed him, he used it to express his concern that had bothered him for so long.

“That Easterling, my Lord, I do not trust him.”

Sauron reclined on the couch with his eyes half-closed.

“Indeed?”

Opening his yellow glittering eyes, he ensnared the Prince’s gaze to expose him for the mental connection between the two of them. The barriers of that mind surrendered to him without any effort, very much like a maiden before her spouse. The resemblance between these two acts had always amused him, as well as the Prince’s reaction to it. He sensed discomfort and guilty pleasure, and how they coalesced within the Prince at the intrusion. If he so wanted, he could either bend it into pure pleasure or unbearable pain. Acting more intense seemed like a compelling idea at the moment, and he longed for the Prince to display an explicit loss of control. But at first he had to find in the other’s mind what he had sought for.

“And where lies the loyalty of yours? Perhaps that distrust is born from your own brazen desires, mortal?”

The Prince held his breath.The steady ground below his feet turned into a thin ice. At their sudden bond he felt hot inside, at his Master’s words - cold. Yet, his sister’s court in Armenelos taught him to control every muscle of his face, therefore his expression remained still. He only lowered his gaze.

“Look at me.”

He raised his eyes to meet his Master’s.

“I may be a mere mortal, my Lord, but nothing in the world can make me betray thee. No treasure, no torment.”

It was then through their bond that a wave of power surged into his face. The Prince found himself lying on his back with a taste of blood in his mouth from his lips that cracked.

Sauron left the couch, his deceptive languor gone, and approached him. Before he could get up, the Master knelt over him and then lay atop him, moving so close that their faces almost touched. The yellow eyes nailed him like a rabbit. He heard his dagger leaving its sheath - a moment of uncertainty, before the edge cut his shirt and the skin with nerves and muscles below his collarbone. The fabric and his chest soaked with blood, streams of it flowed across his skin. At first the pain meant nothing - nothing beyond what he had experienced in battle. But the Master released the blade to press his fingers against the wound. Inhumanly hot, they dipped inside, drawing apart and searing the layers of his flesh, deeper and deeper as if in mockery of another kind of coupling.

The Prince did not scream but his breathing faltered. He burnt. Either with pain or with something else, he could not tell.

In acknowledgement, Sauron took mercy on the Prince. He removed his blood stained fingers from the wound and put them into his mouth to cleanse them with his tongue. Having tasted enough of the man’s blood he whispered to him, pressing his lips to the Prince’s ear.

“If you ever look at another… Even if you merely think of another - your sorry existence will end. And you will not be granted an easy death. For no one can be before me and no one can be after. Is that clear enough, mortal?“

His own words reminded him of something similar he had experienced before. Vaguely, in another life and with another him, or perhaps it did not happen. Or maybe in a dream, he wasn't sure. This human belonged to him, there existed no alternative.

“For me, thou art the one and only, my Lord. None can change it,” the Prince replied after he regained his breath.

In response a tender tongue licked the blood from his lips. And then Sauron kissed him. As the Master's lips touched his, his insides exploded with liquid fire, so soft and gentle they were. Inexperienced yet set aflame he answered to the kiss with greed, letting the pleasure engulf him. Time stood still for him. He would give his life, his everything for this first kiss to never end.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't bookmark please. Thanks.


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